Implementing reforms in Pakistan: a wild goose chase?

For most of its existence, Pakistan has been governed by rules inherited from the colonial era, rules written for a different time, and frankly, a different world.

While the rest of the world moved on and technology reduced getting a business licence to a matter of seconds, Pakistan stayed stuck with long queues, excessive paperwork, and an endless wait. The real cost of this fell hardest on businesses in Pakistan. Finally, in the year 2024, the government committed to a serious overhaul of the country’s outdated regulatory system.

Since then, the pace has picked up. New reforms have been proposed, plans drawn up, and targets set. The ambition is real, but so is the gap between what is being promised and what is actually being implemented; that gap has a story.

Many reforms require a change in the law before they can take effect. That means drafting new rules, getting them approved by the relevant legal bodies, and eventually passing them through the Cabinet or Parliament. In theory, it may sound like a reasonable process, but in practice, reform drafts end up sitting in government offices for months, sometimes years, waiting their turn in a queue that never seems to move fast enough.

Then there is the human factor. Government officials are regularly transferred from one post to another, and when they leave, they often take the momentum of whatever reform they were working on with them. The next person starts from scratch, if they start at all. There is no system that holds anyone accountable for a reform that quietly dies after a posting change. Delay, in this environment, carries no real consequence, and so it thrives.

A large number of reforms require more than one government department to work together. The problem is that no single body has the authority to make all of them move. The coordinating body can follow up, send reminders, and make recommendations, but it cannot force anyone’s hand. The result is predictable: each department assumes the other will act first, and neither does.

The federal-provincial divide adds another layer. Since greater authority was devolved to provinces over a decade ago, as a result of the 18th Amendment, many federal reform decisions no longer automatically apply across the country. An agreement signed in Islamabad may mean nothing in Lahore or Karachi unless the relevant province separately agrees to it, and that agreement is not guaranteed. The reform ends up half-done, which in many cases creates more confusion than the original problem.

A significant chunk of reforms depends on technology: new online systems, digital portals, integrated databases. These sound straightforward but have become a category of delay all their own. Government departments rely heavily on a single technology body to build and maintain their digital systems, and when that body is slow or stretched, everything behind it grinds to a halt. Portals remain ‘under development’ for years. Systems are “almost ready” indefinitely.

Even when funds are approved and a project is given the green light, the money often does not actually reach the department in time, or at all. Work orders are issued, contracts signed, and then… nothing. The funds are trapped somewhere in a slow-moving approval chain that has no particular reason to hurry. One almost feels sympathy for the spreadsheet sitting on someone’s desk, approved and fully budgeted, going absolutely nowhere.

And then there are the reforms that are blocked by something far simpler: an empty chair. Some decisions can only be taken by a board, a committee, or an authority, and that body’s leadership position happens to be vacant. We have often heard stories like: The tenure has expired, the seat has not been filled, and no one else has the legal authority to step in.

The reform sits waiting, not for political will or budget approval, but for someone to simply show up and take a seat. So, the question stands: Is implementing regulatory reforms in Pakistan really a wild goose’s chase? Not entirely. It would be unfair to dismiss what has been set in motion. The intent is real, the pace has picked up, and the willingness to honestly identify where things are going wrong is itself more than many governments manage. That counts for something.

However, as unfortunate as this may sound, good intentions do not simplify a licence. Ambitious targets do not make a portal go live. Pakistan is not chasing a wild goose, rather it knows where the goose is. It has written several detailed reports about the goose. What it has not yet built is a reliable way to actually catch it and keep it. Until that changes, the chase will continue, and the bird will remain, as always, just out of reach.

The article does not necessarily reflect the opinion of Business Recorder or its owners.